


Two hits and a kiss.

by Ookomix



Series: The mighty little mage and his lion [2]
Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Lothar is a troll, M/M, Swordplay, kiss, that's not fair for a mage., training with swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7300249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookomix/pseuds/Ookomix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khadgar goes to the barracks, again, and this time it's to get along with Lothar's stupid excuse. He has to wield a sword.<br/>He may find more than he expected in this crappy dusty place.<br/>Lothar is still a troll, but he's the best kind of troll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two hits and a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> so it's the direct sequel of "Not that Stupid" and I hope you'll enjoy it!   
> I kind of forgot to tell the characters aren't mine, I forgot. But they are not.

It's a terrible idea.

Damn it, he shouldn't have fallen right into Lothar's plan. Damn that kiss, Damn Lothar's blue eyes.

Khadgar enters the barracks –again—and this time he can't even hide. Soldiers look at him, some of them have been here yesterday. Great. The commander is not here, and Khadgar takes advantage of it to go for the group of soon-to-be soldiers in the courtyard, the one he openly insulted.

“Good morning! I want to apologize for yesterday,” he says shyly, not yet used to engage a conversation.

“It's okay,” one of them answers. “If I could blast fireballs with my hands, I'd be a moron, too.”

“Fair enough.”

The soldiers laugh and Khadgar lets it slip. He probably deserves that. He still doesn't want to be here, but he's grown up enough to take a few verbal hits without running away. He thinks. Lothar's voice resounds behind them, and Khadgar can finally breathe. The young mage is trying not to smile like an idiot, and he is quite good at hiding his emotions for this blue-eyed warrior. He did it for weeks, why not for a little longer? Lothar is in front of the group with another instructor, and he starts giving orders. At seven in the morning, what a monster.

“Listen, soldiers, by noon I want everyone here capable of disarming his opponent. I don't care if you're armed or barehanded, if it's after a face-to-face combat or a sneak attack. The instructor Balleys here will inspect this session.”

The soldiers salute their commander and split into groups to start their training, and Lothar approaches Khadgar.

“I was wondering, yesterday,” Khadgar says thoughtfully, looking at the soldiers. “Aren't you a little too much... 'High Ranked' to train them?”

“It's moral boosting to have the commander in the barracks. After the first war against the orcs, it's essential the army stays motivated. But I will not be here everyday, just the time I'm not in the field. And _I_ will train you because you're the future protector of Azeroth.”

“I see. I am honored,” Khadgar replies with an unwitting purr. Damn it. “So, uh, let's begin. Right?”

Lothar laughs and throws a weapon at him. The mage catches it with easiness, inspects it before he takes a defensive posture.

“You are going to disarm me,” Lothar says.

“I don't even know how to properly arm myself, Lothar.”

The commander stares at him with a knowing look, and Khadgar understands he can't make him change his mind. So he has until noon to know how to attack, defend and disarm. He already misses his library. Bracing himself, Khadgar tries different ways to hold the sword, and when he's finally comfortable he goes for the bases of swordplay. He sees it enough around him to know the theory. Lothar hasn't moved yet, his eyes follow every movement the mage makes, and he knows it's an habit, because being careless in a battlefield can cost you your life. Khadgar never saw Lothar careless during a combat.

And... Khadgar is being careless right now, thinking of how Lothar moves when he fights, because he is clearly not prepared when _Lothar_ decides to go to the contact, and a blast of magic bursts out without any warning, hitting the commander in the chest and making him fly to the other side of the courtyard. It's too bad Khadgar hates being the center of attention, because he is, now. He lets go of the sword and runs to Lothar, cursing himself.

“I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to... Are you okay??”

“Yes, yes I am,” Lothar grumbles, dizzy. “Next time, try to dodge or parry, it's... When did you learn how to cast without _saying_ your spell?”

“I understood it was a necessity to know at least one when I found myself stuck between an orc and my probable death, and he was talking to Garona with his hand in my mouth and I was completely helpless and I think I cried but I can't really remember and look at me now I'm talking too much, am I?”

Lothar laughs a little and gets up from the dirty ground, accepting Khadgar's help. With a motion of his hand he sends every recruit back to work and looks at the mage who feels his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“That... was impressive. BUT this is a 'no magic' area, so go get your sword, and dodge, next time.”

Khadgar nods and takes his sword back. This time he is fully prepared if a warrior decides to suddenly charge him like a bull. Damn warriors. After an hour of making himself comfortable with the basics, he thinks he can try to actually fight Lothar. Not win, he's not stupid. But fight. So, when Lothar comes to him, he manages to avoid the charge. Lothar has clearly adapted his fight for Khadgar to have a chance, and maybe it's not fair for the draftees because they took a few hits in the face, but the young mage is not going to complain. The sound of sword against sword rings in his ears, and it becomes more and more difficult to refrain from casting a spell. But Khadgar wants to make Lothar proud. He wants to show that mages are not just little men in robes who spend their time in libraries and can't understand the real world. They are fighters, too. Not the same, maybe with more brain, but they can fight. With a pirouette he manages to avoid a hit and takes a few steps back away from Lothar.

“Impressive,” Oh, so much sarcasm, and Khadgar is not even mad. “Now, I wonder if you plan on fighting back and taking that damn sword, or if you simply wait for me to drop it.”

Khadgar chuckles and tightens his grip on his sword. He'd be more at ease with a staff, since it's the first weapon of a mage, but he doesn't know if it's possible. Maybe he can ask Lothar, after. For now, he has to try to use _that_ sword on _this_ warrior. Lothar's eyes are locked on him, it's hard to focus on something else because everything on Lothar is attractive and if he has to focus on him all morning then he's doomed. Lothar is already smiling for his victory.

Oh my.

Lothar is underestimating him! He can use that to his advantage, right? Khadgar looks around him, seeking an opportunity he already found, then runs towards Lothar who prepares himself to parry, and at the last moment... the young man stumbles and falls in the dust. It's ecstatic to see the surprise in Lothar's face, knowing there's no reason to be surprised. The commander is destabilized, and Khadgar uses it to throw his weapon right against Lothar's wrist, and the soldier drops his sword... only to grab Khadgar's and his own in mid-air. The mage's eyes widen in shock, he has only a second to avoid the strikes and not ending like the brutalized recruits. With a swift roll Khadgar backs away from Lothar, and sees with horror the two wooden swords firmly planted in the ground where his head was. It's like fighting the orcs all over again. And right now he knows he's overthinking, and that's not a good idea. Does Lothar think that much when he fights? Unable to focus, Khadgar concentrate only on not casting a shield when the commander comes to him with both swords dancing around him in a mesmerizing harmony. So, he's ambidextrous too. That's good to know. Khadgar jumps out of Lothar's reach and tries to find a way to get himself out of trouble when he's suddenly lifted from the ground, Lothar's strong arm circling his waist and carrying him like he weights nothing.

“Let GO of me!!” Khadgar shouts, and he squirms to free himself. It's obviously not working.

“Well, I've got two swords and a mage, I'm not disarmed at all,” Lothar jokes, and he takes his time to finally put Khadgar on the ground. “You really need to focus on the battle if you want to win, someday.”

Khadgar doesn't answer, he grabs one of the swords from Lothar's hand, and he looks at it.

“I can't fight with a sword,” he states, deadly serious.

“Do we have this conversation right now?”

“I want a staff. A real staff. Give me a staff, and I will do better. I promise, Lothar.”

Lothar tilts his head to the side, and Khadgar waits for the moment he will say 'a staff? Hell, no'. But he finally nods.

“We'll find you a staff. I'm not very good at fighting with staves, but I have the basics. But at only one condition: I want you to continue practicing with something else. Dagger, sword, whatever. Something else.”

Then he makes his way to the barracks, and Khadgar happily follows him. They end up in the weaponry. They do have staves. They're not impressive, but here they are. Khadgar takes one of them from the rattle, and plays with it to test it.

“What did I tell you, yesterday?” Lothar's voice resounds behind him and Khadgar jumps, startled, before he turns around. Lothar's eyes are on him, and Khadgar can once again drown in these blue jewels because _once again_ the other man is very close to him.

“... That I had to come to the barracks to get along with your stupid excuse to see me?”

“..... I said that, too. Fair enough,” Lothar sighs. “I. Am. NOT. Underestimating you. Not now, not later. And that... technique... you used, you realize I probably used it before you were born? And that I know you're smart enough to try everything to make me drop my weapon?”

Khadgar considers the incident which has cost him his sword, and he gulps.

“Is that's why it didn't work?” Khadgar asks, and Lothar nods. “And it would have worked against someone else?” This time, Lothar shrugs. That changes everything. Khadgar looks down, at his hands, at the staff. He feels stupid for having doubted Lothar. Maybe he's the one underestimating himself. He raises his head and closes the space between him and the commander who doesn't move.

“Do you realize I'm surely not worth your affection? I will never be good enough, and we will always be worlds apart. Is that really what you want? Because I...” Khadgar breathes slowly. “I want it, but I will _not_ take it well if you decide to tell me I'm not worth it _after_. So, if it's only a joke you have to tell me, Lothar.”

“Anduin.”

Khadgar's eyes go wide when he hears the name, and Lothar prevents him from lowering his head with a finger under his chin. The commander's smile is real, sincere, and it warms the mage up more than it should.

“Here. I give you the right to call me by my first name. No one except Taria uses it anymore. But I think I'd like to hear it in your voice. You'd never see me wandering at night and ending up in the library if I didn't think you were worth my affection. Stop being insecure, it's not suiting you.”

Now there's no way Khadgar manages to hide his stupidest smile, and he's grinning from ear to ear. It's pleasant, he hasn't had the chance to smile for real since a really long time.

“It's a shame no one calls you that. I like your name, _Anduin_ ,” Khadgar says, tasting the name, and because he's not capable of saying _I love you_ by dread of breaking the magic of the moment. But as soon as he pronounces Lothar's (no, _Anduin's_ ) name, he's once again against a wall, intoxicated by the commander's scent all around him, and Anduin's kiss is like a million sentences and promises melted into only one word that spins in his head.

_Happiness._

This time Khadgar is the one who breaks the moment, and he chuckles softly, his fingers still in _his_ warrior's brown locks.

“I will never know how to fight without magic if _that_ keeps happening, and as much as I like being here, we should go back and start to fight with staves, or else I'll die in a muted battlefield.”

Anduin laughs and nods, and without a warning he lifts once again Khadgar on the air and throws him on his shoulder. Khadgar gasps and kicks, but it's still no use. Right now he's not sure if he's falling in love or hating the man.

“Why do you do that? How can you lift me up like that?”

“Oh, the things I could do to you while I carry you,” Anduin sings in his breath, and Khadgar feels his cheeks burning. Oh, for the love of the Light. He hasn't let go of his staff, and he's seriously thinking about hitting Anduin with it when he finally feels the ground beneath his feet. Dusting his clothes, he looks around him and still tries to compose himself when he takes a sweep and falls on the ground, Anduin's laugh bursting in the air.

“Don't turn your back on your opponent, Kid! Oh, and never trust anyone, that's the key!”

It's official.

Khadgar _hates_ this man.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it for the moment! Sorry not sorry for Khadgar.  
> Thank you for having read it till the end!


End file.
